


So put out your cigarette and kiss me on the lips tonight.

by ellatrobbie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon or AU verse - take your pic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 18:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellatrobbie/pseuds/ellatrobbie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Half a smirk appeared on his lips, “You’re sulking?” he asked like he was relieved it wasn't something more serious. </p><p>Zayn fought the urge to push him away and find another semi-dark corner to smoke in."</p>
            </blockquote>





	So put out your cigarette and kiss me on the lips tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> This entire fic was inspired by 1983 by Neon Trees. It doesn't follow the meaning literally, but it was what started this fic and what I listened to while writing about 90% of it. So might be cool to have a listen while reading http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j51LRUjIdnE :)
> 
> Also, this fic is a wonderful example of why I don't write smut or anything close, but I did my best...

Zayn took a drag of his cigarette, allowing the taste to relax him even though he was still on edge. For one, this alleyway wasn't exactly the beacon of safety, even if it was sort of lit by the light above the door. But whatever. The bar they were in apparently turned into a club, strobe lights and all, after 11 pm and he just really needed some air. 

“Been looking for you,” a voice said. Zayn let the accent, warm and familiar wash over him, before pulling a brave face and turning towards it. 

Niall stood there by the back door, hair mussed, half from dancing, and half from not caring in the first place. He had a smile on his face, but Zayn had seen enough to know that this one wasn't genuine. Finally, Zayn just shrugged, not really wanting to speak, and not having anything to say anyway.

Niall took a few steps closer, “ You've been avoiding me.” It wasn't really a question, and Zayn wasn't going to deny it. 

Niall stepped closer again, standing less than a foot away from him, this time reaching out to Zayn’s hand. He gently took the cigarette from his fingers and brought it up to his own mouth. Niall doesn't smoke often and Zayn couldn't help staring, at his lips as they pursed around the white stick, his cheeks as he dragged in. Niall turned his head to blow the smoke out, and Zayn’s eyes were stuck to his jawline. 

Finally Niall turned back to him, holding the cigarette in front of his face. His eyes were gazing expectantly. And Zayn knew he was going to talk to him, because he couldn't avoid it forever, because it was Niall.

“You called me a slag,” Zayn finally says weakly. 

Niall’s eyes brightened, and half a smirk appeared on his lips, “You’re sulking?” he asked like he was relieved it wasn't something more serious. 

Zayn fought the urge to push him away and find another semi-dark corner to smoke in. So what if he was sulking. It’s not that he wasn't a slag, because by some definitions, okay by _most_ definitions, he probably was. It was that Niall, his best friend, his _whatever_ , didn't get it. He was sure of all people Niall would get it. 

“I was only joking, didn't mean it,” Niall added, realising how badly Zayn was taking this. That half smirk was still on his face, and he shuffled forward a little bit more, so that Zayn couldn't even bring his cigarette to his mouth anymore. 

Niall leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Zayn’s mouth before pressing their lips together properly. Zayn’s eyes fluttered closed and he felt his whole body relaxing, and this time it definitely wasn't the cigarette. A little bit of him hated himself, for not being stronger, for not refusing Niall. For not at least talking to him. But instead he moaned softly when Niall bit his lower lip gently before pulling away. 

His mouth was still in the fucking half smirk, and Zayn would've thought that thing was super-glued to his face if he wasn't so breathless from the kiss. 

“Y’know, I’m a slag too,” Niall said, as he ran his hands down Zayn’s arms and lowered himself slowly to his knees. Zayn stared at him, because the implication was bold and loud and they had never done this outside their apartments and fuck he was already hard at just the thought of Niall sucking him off. 

“Yeah?” Is all he managed to say. 

Niall’s hand was already undoing his zipper, so lightly it was almost teasing. He had one hand on Zayn’s hip and the other moved to pull down Zayn’s pants just enough when he looked back up, meeting Zayn’s eyes immediately. “Mmm, only for you though.”

Zayn’s breath hitched, and he was about to say something, anything when Niall’s fingers, somehow still warm, wrapped around his cock and pulled it out into the air. So he just leaned his head back onto the brick wall, and closed his eyes. He knew from experience that if he watched it would last a lot shorter than he wanted it to. 

Instead he felt Niall’s fingers around him, and his other hand was still on Zayn’s hip, fingers digging in. He’d have marks from his fingers the next morning and he didn't mind one bit. Niall’s breath felt warm and before he could think anything else, Niall’s tongue was teasing around his tip.

Zayn’s hand moved to Niall’s head, fingers gripping his hair, hopefully not too tightly, because Zayn had been on the receiving end of that. He moaned again, and tried hard to keep his hips from bucking. His knees felt weak and part of him just wanted to lie down. Niall sucked harder, and deeper and Zayn knew that any exercise in endurance was futile.

“Niall,” he breathed out as a warning, expecting Niall to pull his mouth off. But Niall just hummed, cheeks hollowing out once more and the fingers on his hips massaged a bit deeper in encouragement. In surprise, Zayn looked down, their eyes meeting each other as Niall peered up, his mouth still perfectly wrapped around Zayn’s cock. His cheeks were flushed red, and his eyes practically sparkled with a mixture of what looked like smugness and want. That was what did it for him, and Zayn came into Niall’s ready mouth. Zayn stared, refusing to close his eyes and he watched as Niall swallowed intently. Finally Niall pulled his mouth off, his tongue licking the head clean before he grinned up at Zayn. He moved his hands to pull Zayn’s pants and jeans up again. 

Zayn, in the mean time, just reached for his elbow, pulling Niall up onto his feet and turning them so that Niall was pushed against the wall now. He slammed his lips to Niall’s furiously, licking into his mouth as soon as Niall opens up to him. He could taste himself on Niall’s tongue, along with whatever beer he’d been drinking inside. Zayn pressed his whole body against his, pressing him into the wall, and kissed him until he couldn’t taste anything but Niall anymore. 

Niall moved a hand from where it had been gripping Zayn’s waist and cupped his cheek gingerly, pulling away as far as he could due to the wall behind his head. 

“Hey, I didn’t -” he started, his eyes flicked between Zayn’s eyes and lips. He looked, well apologetic for a start, but also this other look that had Zayn torn between kissing him again or running away. 

“It’s okay,” Zayn hushed him, his hands still pressed into Niall’s chest. 

“No,” Niall shook his head resolutely, “I wanted to say – last night I kind of freaked out because the lads were teasing us and I didn’t know what to say, so I said stupid things and called you a slag,”

“Yeah, I remember,” Zayn muttered, but he let out a soft laugh afterwards, 

“And like, there was other stuff I wanted to say, but I didn’t because I hadn’t talked to you yet.”

Zayn looked him properly in the eye then, his fingers twisted into Niall’s t-shirt. “Like what?” His voice was embarrassingly hopeful. Maybe Niall had got it all along. Maybe he had been the same.

Niall licked his lips, “Like maybe I’m not okay with keep things like this between us. Maybe I... I want more.” His voice was low and cautious and hopeful.

“Yeah?” Zayn asked, double checking because his heart was beating impossibly fast and it had nothing to do with the fact he’d just been sucked off in an alleyway. Because maybe Niall _did_ get it. “I think I want more too.”

Niall let out a loud sigh, and with them being so close there’s no way he could disguise that as anything other than what it was: relief. His hand had moved from Zayn’s face to the back of his neck. “More what?”

Zayn nearly laughed, “More you. You all the time. _Just_ you.”

And Niall smiled. The whole of him smiled, his eyes fucking shined in the dim light. “Yeah,” he breathed, “All the time sounds good.”

Zayn mirrored his smile, tilting his head forward so his forehead was rested against Niall’s. In a bit they’d have to go back inside, and the boy would make jokes about what they’d been up to (and be right, for once). And later they’d go home and push each other into the mattress and leave marks that weren’t nearly as permanent as they felt. And in the morning Niall would make toast while Zayn made tea and it would exactly the same as what they’d done before. But better. So much better.


End file.
